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In Concert, Jackman Keeps the Claws In
P.S. Jackman hates photoshoots like this. Photo by Josie Di Luzio.
Hugh Jackman In Concert
Princess of Wales Theatre (300 King Street West)
July 5–10, 12–16, 8 p.m.; July 9–10, 16–17, 2 p.m.
$49–$130
Enjoyment of Hugh Jackman In Concert hinges in part on one’s love of musical theatre—Jackman sings mostly showtunes and musical ditties—but mostly on one’s love of Hugh Jackman. The performer, best-known for his acting roles in the X-Men franchise, Kate & Leopold, and Australia, is aware of this, and spends much of the show’s two hours trying to charm the audience. Judging by the response when we saw him opening night, he succeeds.
Qualifications are helpful here, because how the show comes off depends on how won-over you are by its star. For example, In Concert‘s uneven tone—Jackman jumps from musical genre to genre without much reason—can come off as either spontaneous or scattered. The fact that the show feels like it could (maybe should?) take place in Jackman’s living room makes it seem either intimate or diminutive. (A simple test, perhaps: if the accidental undoing of a shirt button, revealing Jackman’s chest, sets your heart a-flutter, this show is for you.)
In Concert is a personal show, an obvious bid to shade in Jackman’s persona so it has nuance beyond “action star.” In between set pieces, he shares anecdotes from milestones in his career: his first audition for the role of Wolverine, the time his father walked him to a performance at Carnegie Hall. As an opening night surprise, he serenades his wife with “The Way You Look Tonight,” accompanied by a slideshow showing photos of her throughout the years. In a show of patriotism, he also stands alongside three didgeridoo players, including his young son, Oscar. Even when the performances are shaky (say, the rendition of “Fever” that lacks any sizzle and gets sidelined by a silly running joke), you forgive Jackman because he appears to be having so much fun.
In interviews before In Concert, Jackman said he wasn’t trying to distance himself from his iconic role as Wolverine. Still, during the show, Wolverine feels like a dirty secret. He jokes that he’s restrained from dancing much because he’s bulking up for the sequel. He recalls how silly the sample pages for the first X-Men film seemed, but yet never divulges why he auditioned for the part anyhow. He seems genuinely surprised when news of his impending filming of Wolverine 2 gets a solid, boisterous cheer. Jackman needs to stop worrying, as he has nothing to prove, and in a weird way the show ends up overshadowed by Wolverine in a way we didn’t expect, eclipsing the suave version of Jackman we’ve seen performing at the Tony Awards and in the witty dancing clips for Lipton’s.
The best performances happen when Jackman has a clear connection to the material. A medley of 20th Century Fox musical films is dazzling in part because, as Jackman tells us, he spent his childhood soaking up the melodies—his rendition of “Singin’ In The Rain” is joyful and energetic. His sheer passion for Rodgers and Hammerstein makes his take on the seven-minute-long “Soliloquy” from Carousel work even if you haven’t seen the source musical.
Unfortunately, the show is front-loaded with the less-successful performances. “One Night Only,” from the musical Dreamgirls, is static (and we can’t help but compare Jackman to the powerhouse performances of the song given by Beyonce and Jennifer Hudson in the film adaptation). A Queen and Elvis mash-up of “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” and “A Little Less Conversation” pops up randomly and goes nowhere. And, while it may have been an opening night exclusive for his wife’s presence, “The Way You Look Tonight” is oddly unaffecting. Finally, there’s the aforementioned “Fever”—one of the least sexy renditions of the song around, especially when Jackman fumbles the words.
In a way, it wouldn’t be surprising if Jackman can’t remember the words: not for any memory issues, but because he’s fighting the song. The slinky, sultry number requires letting go in a way Jackman isn’t prepared to do yet. He appears more comfortable being sexy as the flamboyant Australian music legend Peter Allen—a role from The Boy From Oz that garnered him a Tony Award—than as himself. Jackman, upon learning he was to host the Oscars, turned to his wife and said, “You’re about to get into bed with the host of the Academy Awards,” and she quipped, “Billy Crystal is here?” The audience laughs at Jackman’s retelling of the story, but he can’t leave the joke on that salty note. He has to go on to tell us that that was a fabrication, and instead he and his wife jumped up and down on the bed in excitement like kids. Something about that story inspired a conviction that Jackman’s ideal song-and-dance home would be in the cotton-candy world of Glee.
While In Concert is, for the most part, entertaining, the promise of something even better shadows it. Someday, perhaps when Jackman is free from a movie star image, there’ll be a more eccentric, wilder Jackman waiting to burst out, one that aches to give us fever.